Aug. 6, 1997-May 11, 2000
Little Joe was the last of 16 puppies born. Looking back, I guess the faucets must have been emptied by his littermates before he got there, and he didn't get that first good meal. I wanted the puppies to get their bellies full of colostrum before I started supplimenting with formula, so I waited and watched and thought everyone was getting thier turn. At 24 hours old Little Joe was away from the rest of the litter-cold. I shoved him down my shirt to start warming him up and started tube feeding him the formula. He started to perk up, and I knew I had a little fighter on my hands. At three days old he started to go into little crying fits about 15 minutes before feeding time. Thus his first trip to the vet only to discover his only problem was low blood sugar. I guess I wasn't feeding the little buggar enough!
Little Joe's littermates with their mother, Contessa.
Little Joe was growing more slowly than his littermates and this was making it hard to get him back on his mother to nurse. One had to hold a hand on either side of him to keep them from pushing him away. This is how the name came about: Due to his small size, and the fact that I was watching old Bonanza reruns while feeding pups 24/7, and the fact that Joe Cartwright was always getting shoved around by his bigger brothers, so my little mantle was named Liberty's Little Joe.
Little Joe continued to progress, but was still growing slowly. He wasn't getting as big as fast as his littermates and this made it difficult for him to nurse, none the less, he was doing well, as was the rest of the litter so I left the bunch in the care of a good friend and went to a dog show. Upon returning home I discovered Little Joe was badly dehydrated. He had gotten some sour formula and wasn't nursing like he should have been. Off to the vet we went. He was given IV fluids and karo-syrup. He came back around again. I promised him I would never leave him again. He had only gained 3 oz since his birth 3 weeks earlier. Little Joe was my constant companion from that point on. He had to have sub-Q fluids every 4 hours and formula hourly again for several days. Like the fighter he was, he came through again with flying colors. (Unfortunately, some of the damage to his kidneys was incurred at this time and we were unaware of this.)
Little Joe was totally unaware of his smaller size. He was constantly getting pounced by his littermates and he began to get, understandably, a litte testy about this, so I found some more suitable play mates for him.
Little Joe at 10 weeks, (he weighed about 15# here) with his much older brother Tut and min pin friend Frodo.
Little Joe playing with his mother.
Little Joe was doing very well again, but seemed to be exhibiting some odd behaviors. I attributed this to his being hand raised and not having the correct doggy influince, but as he grew older it became apparent that Little Joe was autistic. More about this later.
I truely believe Little Joe was given 9 lives, because he was about to use up another one. I had pulled up my carpeting and put down lanolium. Little Joe was about 15 weeks old and jumped off the sofa onto thw slick floor. He did the most awful looking splits! I rushed to him to get him up. After a few days it was apparent there was a problem. He was very weak in the rear end and was having trouble holding his hocks steady when he walked. X-rays showed a stress fracture at the neck of the femur and a luxation of one of the vertibrae. We also decided that he had pulled, and stretched all the connective tissues in his back legs. We would have to wait and watch to see what would happen. He was given acupunture, chiropractic, massage and T-Touch treatments.
After months of work, he was getting up and playing and running around as if nothing was amis with his rear, even though his hocks continued to fall to the inside when he put weight on them.
It was at this time that I felt Little Joe, because of the autism, would be better in a home where he was the only dog and could get settled into a much quieter routine than went on in my muti-dane house hold. He went to a wonderful and loveing family and he and I both managed to survive 5 of the worst days of our lives. He wouldn't let anyone touch him, and he wouldn't eat. Little Joe had some odd habits, he would only eat out of one bowl, do certain things in a cerain order, inserted social behaviors in inappropriate places, but he had loved people and especially children. He had never met a stranger, never growled or barked at anyone. After 5 days I drove 350 miles to bring my Little Joe home for good. You've never seen such a change in a dog as when he heard my voice. I made the promise that he and I would never be seperated again.
This is Little Joe at 6 months old. The name Little Joe still fits. It was shortly after this that he took off on a growing spurt and didn't stop until he was 34" and 140#. What a surprise to see him taller than his mother!
Little Joe continued to be the light of my life. Never a dull moment with that kid. He enjoyed playing with puppies now that he was much bigger. He still had the mind of an 8 week old!
Here he is playing with his cousins Scotty and Jezzabelle.
Little Joe was about 18 months old when a friend took this picture of he and I together.
I was greatful to get such a nice profile of my natural eared boy.
Things went along fairly well until Nov. of 1999. Little Joe bloated and torsioned. I rushed him to the University and he was in the early stages and not even in shock yet, but it was determined that he had torse, so off to surgery he went. He was good and strong, and I felt things would be alright. He came through the surgery fine, but his blood work showed that he was in renal failure. The vets assured me that it was most probably due to the insult from the bloat episode and he would be fine. They wanted to keep him in the hospital and diurese him for several days. I warned them about his autism, and that as he started to feel better he would become increaseingly uncooperative with them. This of course fell on deaf ears. He refused to leave the ICU unit-afterall, this was the last place mom had left him, and this is where he would stay until my return! I visited more than they wanted, and was adamant about coming in to do acupressure treatments during his stay in the hospital. I had become a certified acupressure therapist and was intent on doing all I could to facilitate his recovery. Long story short he was finally allowed to come home.
He began to recover much more quickly once he was home. But alas, the story doesn't end here. 10 days after the surgery he came down with pneumonia. He had aspirated during surgery and becuase they couldn't get him to get up and walk around like they wanted, the fluid settled in his lungs. Again his kidneys were in failure. Instead of leaving him there again, I went to my regular vet, had an IV catheter put in and spent the next week sitting at home with him running IV fluids 24/7.
Little Joe taking a nap on my pillow after his fluids were administered at home.
He spent many days with his head on my lap. Something he had never done before this illness. He began to act like his old self again, but his blood work showed that he was down to about 25% kidney function. I began to learn all I could about the disease, but sad to say, for Little Joe, I seemed to learn too little too late. As I would find out more info. he would progress to the next step of this terminal illness and the info. was useless. Little Joe was plagued with reccurent upper respiratory infections. A result of his compromised immune system due to the renal failure. I continued to do massage, T-Touch and acupressure treatments daily. I truely feel that this is the reason that even though his "numbers" said he should have been in awful shape, he was still eating good and bouncing around.
April was a difficult month. Little Joe was down to about 15% kidney function. His appetite was slipping away, and he was having trouble keeping his meals down. In spite of this his energy level was still very good. A friend and I had planned a trip to KY to see Rolex, the Olympic selection trials for eventing, and decided to take Little Joe for what might be his last special time with me. We managed easily to see what we wanted to see and keep Little Joe on his fluid, medication and meal schedule. We even found a few things he really liked to eat, and even though the cookies he took a particular liking to weren't really good for him, he was allowed his few pleasures anyway. Little Joe really enjoyed the trip. He loves to ride in his Aunt Janets van, and he was even allowed on the special bed. He went walking around the grounds and met loads of other dogs and people, and he especially loved the children. We practically had to drag him back to the camper every day. He got to sleep with mom every noght, and didn't have to compete with any other danes for my full attention. It was quite a treat for him, and me too.
One evening, after returning home from KY, he layed his head on my chest, and let me know that all he ever needed was to be with me-for me to love him. He let me know that he was content to stay with me as long as I wanted but would accept my decision when it was time to go. Several days later, he began to cough late in the evening. This came on without any warning. I started him on antibiotics and used his inhaler. By morning he was very congested and running a 104* temperature. I knew that I couldn't ask him to fight any longer. I said good bye to my precious Little Joe at 2 pm May 11, 2000.
Little Joe was the light of my life and the lessons I learned from him will not soon be forgotten. He overcame many trials and tribulation and never felt sorry for himself, never saw himself as handicapped, never felt he was anything less than perfect. He never complained, although I knew many times he had to have been in great pain. He was always happy to greet me, even when he knew I was coming to give him pills, or IV fluids. He taught me the benefits of T-Touch and acupressure. He inspired me to begin to live my life again. I know that as I go about my days now, Little Joe is truely with me always-as I had promised him a few years ago, as he had wished his whole life.